


Tea for Two and None for You

by SolarPoweredFlashlight



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Consensual Kink, F/F, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:54:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarPoweredFlashlight/pseuds/SolarPoweredFlashlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caitlyn surprises Vi with the fulfillment of a particular fantasy of hers that involves being topped by two women at once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tea for Two and None for You

Caitlyn stops her in the kitchen, catching her by the belt buckle and catching her off guard. She drags Vi in close, face to face, and wow who even is this Caitlyn, their guest is just one room away and she’s never been one to risk necking where people can see.

Vi isn’t sure but she isn’t about to complain – her look of surprise melts into affectionate eagerness as Caitlyn keeps the grip tight and meets her in the middle with a kiss just brimming over with the excitement that isn’t showing on her poker face.

Vi kisses back, of course, confused and delighted. Cait pulls away, snakes a hand up to her chin, tilts her face to the side. “You’re going to be on your best behaviour tonight,” she murmurs into Vi’s ear, and Vi is equal parts aroused and baffled.

“Course, Cupcake,” she answers, rubbing a reassuring hand along her detective’s waist. She’s not sure what she’s so worried about – it’s just Karma. They’ve had Karma over before. She’s like the most chill, non-judgemental person ever.

 

Caitlyn withdraws, unreadable, and makes her way into the sitting room. Vi takes a moment to gather up the brain cells that scattered like dandelion puffs in the wind the moment Caitlyn used her bedroom voice.

Whoof. Okay. Guest entertaining time. Best behaviour. No feet on the coffee table or something.

She follows her partner out of the kitchen.

Vi joins them on the couch and they yammer for a while. Politics. City-states. Crime rates. Snore.

But that isn’t fair to Karma. Vi _likes_ Karma; she’s quietly confident in the same way that Caitlyn is, and she always makes an effort to include Vi in the conversation, asking questions and laughing at her jokes.

They’re there maybe an hour and Vi has to admit to herself she’s actually enjoying the visit when Caitlyn catches her eye.

“Put the water on to boil for us, dear,” she says, and Vi has to tell herself it was a request, not a command. Cait’ll be teasing her for her one track mind if she can tell Vi’s letting herself get turned on just by getting asked to make _tea_.

She meanders into the kitchen and loses interest in whatever they’re chatting about. Vi wanders back in to wait for the water to boil, wanders back out when the kettle starts to whine. Tea gets made. It’s all very mundane.

Vi brings two cups out to the living room (and this time remembers the saucers, which she thinks she totally deserves to feel pumped about) and then brings the pot out. She isn’t expecting much response from Caitlyn, if any – maybe a _thank you dear_ , if she’s feeling especially demonstrative.

She is absolutely not expecting Cait to catch her eye, smile, and then clearly, unmistakably, say “Good girl.”

Two things happen immediately. A surge of arousal lunges from somewhere near her heart to somewhere south of her stomach, and her eyes leap in sudden panic to Karma, who is _sitting right there_ what are you even _thinking_ Caitlyn.

“B-hah!” she squawks, awkwardly, laughing a little too late, a little too strained. “Sometimes I think she takes it too seriously when the jokers down at the station tell her she’s gotta get me better trained.” Vi recovers as much as she can, plastering a grin on her face and winking at Karma. The Ionian smiles, and the laughter in her dark eyes seems genuine enough.

Okay. Alright. Bullet dodged.

Man, seriously, who spiked Caitlyn’s breakfast blend this morning, though?

She straightens up from setting everything down on the coffee table, still wearing the plastic grin that she can only hope Karma doesn’t see through.

“Vi, love,” Caitlyn says, and Vi’s attention snaps back to her. She’s still using her bedroom voice. What is going on. “ _Kneel_.”

Goosebumps scream their way along Vi’s arms. Normally she wouldn’t even dare to hesitate, but normally they aren’t doing this in front of a fucking _house guest_! She looks between Karma and Caitlyn, settled as they are on the couch. Karma already has her cup of tea in her lap, and they make sharp, intense eye contact that Vi is completely unprepared for.

Her toes curl, gripping at the fancy carpet through the socks that she wears to appease Caitlyn.

Karma doesn’t seem surprised at all.

Why doesn’t Karma seem – oh _fuck._

Vi’s mind leaps back four months to a conversation had in a squad car during a painfully long stakeout. They’d been watching the building for hours and Vi had taken to the game of What’s Their Kink, picking out members of the unaware public who wandered past and inventing narratives about their strange and exciting sex lives.

“Those three,” Vi had said of a group of two women and one man, “are kinky as _fuck_. Bondage. Impact play. Sensory shit, everything. Fire and blood and knives. But more than anything they’re into mindfucks. Power whatsit.”

“Power exchange?” Cait had suggested, entertaining Vi’s game with a mild smile. “And I expect he’s the dominant and those are his two submissive women. Or is one of the women dominant, and she’s got a male bottom and a female bottom?”

“Neither,” Vi had decided, leaning forward and putting her elbows on the dash. “It’s two tops. That girl in the middle is the submissive, and they take turns messing with her head. Sometimes they do it at the same time. She never knows what’s gonna come next from either of them, and that’s the way she likes it.”

Cait had chuckled patiently. “Is that the sort of thing that would appeal to you?”

“What, getting topped by _two_ people? I mean, if it’s two ladies… who in their right mind _wouldn’t_ want to try that at least once?”

Her mind is yanked back to the present. She looks at Caitlyn. She licks her lips.

She drops to her knees.

“Good girl,” Cait says.

Vi swallows. Hard.

“Hands behind your back,” Cait says.

Vi does as she’s told. Her partner is half a room away and hasn’t touched her since the kiss in the kitchen and Vi is already as turned on as she’d have been if Cait had just spent five minutes teasing her with a hand down her pants.

“She _is_ well behaved,” Karma says, and Vi dares to flick her eyes up at the woman in time to get the full blast of her distinctly toppy looking smile.

“So far,” Caitlyn answers, and wow fucking fuck it’s like there’s a hot poker of desire jabbing her in the crotch every time one of the couch-lounging, tea-sipping pair says a single word. “But she knows she’ll be very firmly corrected if she fails to obey. Don’t you, dear?”

Vi can’t believe this is actually fucking happening. She blinks hard, fixating on the carpet.

She knows what Cait expects her to say, but can she really utter those words in front of someone else, can she really shackle herself and her carefully created reputation by admitting to this side of herself?

She hesitates.

“What’s your safe word, dear?” Cait asks gently.

“Red,” Vi answers instantly, and realizes too late this is as much of a confession of her submissive tendencies as _yes ma’am_ would have been.

“Do you need to use it, love?”

Vi’s heart melts. Of course Caitlyn is ready to call the whole thing off the moment she shows a single sign of being uncomfortable.

She rolls the idea of this whole thing over in her head and realizes that more than anything she’s incredibly aroused, and the edge of risk and uncertainty is really just feeding more fuel into that fire. It’s clear that Caitlyn has talked this through with Karma first, and she completely trusts Cait’s judgement. Vi also recalls that Caitlyn is all too aware of how much she gets off on being surprised – that this setup is designed deliberately to fulfil one of _her_ fantasies, not one of Caitlyn’s.

“No ma’am,” she murmurs, unable to fend off the little smile that she directs towards the Sheriff’s knees.

“Alright. You’re allowed to safeword at any time, and if I hear the words ‘stop’ or ‘slow down’ or ‘wait’ know that I will, with or without a safeword being used.”

“Yes ma’am,” Vi whispers, “thank you ma’am.”

“Fix your posture, sweetheart,” Caitlyn says, and Vi doesn’t have the courage to look at her but she can hear the smirk in her tone. She shifts slightly where she kneels; back straight, chest out, shoulders back, chin up, hands clasped together. It’s such a common ritual that she can almost forget there’s an interloper today. _Almost_.

China clinks. Caitlyn chuckles.

“That’s better. We want our guest to be able to get a good look at you.”

Vi’s pulse is a drum in her ears and between her legs.

“She _is_ very lovely,” Karma comments, and being talked about like an expensive vase somehow just makes Vi lightheaded with how very much she’s enjoying this.

Not a single bit of physical contact and she’s already breathing hard.

“Lift your chin dear,” Caitlyn says, and Vi does, closing her eyes and focusing in on the way the words make her insides hum. She isn’t allowed to focus inwardly for more than a moment before Cait corrects her. “Look at me,” the sheriff says, and Vi does, struggling to maintain her perfect posture with how completely overwhelmed she is.

“You’re going to be very good for me tonight, love. And I expect you to do the same for our guest.” Vi’s eyes drop, just for half a moment, to watch Caitlyn’s wonderful, wicked fingers glide back and forth along the edge of her tea cup. She forces her gaze back up. “Consider an order from her to be as good as given by me. If you disobey, you will be punished. If you are as good of a girl as I know you’re capable of being, perhaps we’ll see fit to reward you.”

Vi waits a heartbeat to make sure Caitlyn is done before murmuring “Yes ma’am,” sure that she’s never endured anything so impossibly hot in her entire life.

“Good,” she purrs. “Unbutton your shirt.”

Oh boy. Oh fuck. Okay.

Vi shifts her weight slightly and brings her hands to the loose, casual shirt she’d thrown on not two hours ago. She makes the mistake of looking up at Karma, and the woman is watching her intently, smiling over her cup of tea. Vi fumbles with the first button, trying to remember how to operate clothing while also trying to remember to keep her back straight and her chest out.

One by one the buttons come undone, the room draped in hungry silence but for the THOOMP THOOMP THOOMP of her own damned pulse. She pushes the shirt open, exposing her midriff, her simple black bra, her collarbone, her breasts.

“Such a good girl,” Karma says, and her sudden participation after her long silence makes Vi make a stifled noise that she’s pretty sure will make them think some asshole poltergeist dropped an ice cube down the back of her shirt.

Her unbuttoned, spread open shirt.

She’s worn things more revealing than this in public, really, but it’s different. Vi can do nothing but worry her lower lip between her teeth and push her shoulders back and her tits out while this person who isn’t her girlfriend eyeballs her with exactly zero shame or reluctance.

“ _Very_ nice,” Karma says, and Vi is almost embarassed by how sharply her body reacts to her every word.

They make eye contact.

Karma smiles darkly and pats her leg twice like she’s summoning a dog.

Vi doesn’t even glance over at Caitlyn to make sure she’s supposed to obey.

That’s _all_ she can do at this point.

She lowers her hands to the floor and crawls over to the couch, around the coffee table, gripped by the best kind of fear. She has no idea what will happen when she gets within arm’s reach of their Ionian friend.

Vi crouches at Karma’s feet, at the edge of the couch and farther from Cait than she’d like but excited to see where this is going.

“Sit up,” Karma says, voice rich with more warmth than brutality - but Vi has learned what to listen for after years with Cait, and she can hear that the brutality is there somewhere. _Fuck_ , she hopes Karma likes to bite.

Vi settles back onto her knees, her backside against her heels.

Shoulders back, chest out, chin up, arms crossed behind her back.

Best behaviour.

Make Caitlyn proud.

Impress Karma.

Be a good girl.

“Good girl,” Karma says, flooding Vi with pleasure. The praise is just as much a reward as a tender touch. If anything, it’s a tender touch that bypasses her body and leaps right to her brain.

Karma reaches out and Vi forces herself to remain perfectly still. Dark, silky knuckles find her throat, and that’s all it takes to make Vi exhale hard.

She holds herself still, every bit in bondage as if she’d been cuffed in place, while Karma strokes up and down her neck. She wants to glance at Cait, but she wouldn’t want to be disrespectful of Karma. No, disrespect is the last thing she wants to convey.

Slowly, slyly, Karma brings the tips of her fingers to the collar of Vi’s shirt. Vi’s heard the phrase _effortless grace_ before, and shit, if Karma doesn’t deserve those words, nobody does. Her shirt is sliding smoothly off one shoulder, then the other, and it hardly feels like Karma did more than will the shirt to the floor with the brush of a thumb.

“That’s better,” she whispers, a barely-there touch holding Vi’s jaw up, “don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Vi breaths, stumbling over what to call her. Yes ma’am? Yes miss? Yes my lady?

“Yes, _Duchess_ ,” Karma corrects. Whether she senses Vi’s plight or just enjoys an opportunity to crank her dominant tone up to eleven with unexpected and goosebump-inspiring force is hard to say.

“Yes Duchess,” Vi says quickly, rushing to make up for her falter.

Her soft touch under Vi’s chin lifts up, up, and Vi is eagerly craning her neck, making herself as pliable as she can. Karma isn’t satisfied until Vi’s staring straight up at the ceiling. She can’t watch but she can _feel_ and the first thing she feels is the very edge of a nail painting a line along the contour of the top of her bra’s cups. Her toes squirm, her breath catches, her eyes stay locked on the ceiling.

“You’re much better trained than I expected you to be,” Karma teases quietly, stroking back and forth.

Playful rebellion bubbles up somewhere in Vi’s mind but it’s drowned out by an ocean of helpless compliance.

Vi’s lips move slightly, as if her mouth thinks she ought to reply but her brain refuses to follow through.

Caitlyn’s chuckle rolls through Vi like a brushfire.

The sheriff gets up from the edge of the couch and moves in closer to Karma, then gestures to the space between their knees. “Come sit here for me, love.”

Vi looks to Karma for confirmation that she’s allowed to move away from the position she’s been put in, and the woman smiles and inclines her head towards where Caitlyn says she wants her. Vi shuffles over and turns her head up at Caitlyn.

Her partner smiles at her, momentarily letting a hopeful ‘you’re having fun, right?’ expression shine through in the quirk of an eyebrow. An answering grin blossoms on Vi’s face.

Then they’re back in character again, and Cait’s hand is in her hair, clamping down, tugging sharply, twisting her head. Caitlyn leans in and growls, “Face the other way.”

“Yes ma’am,” she gasps, pivoting to sit with her back to the sofa, dragged there half by the command and half by the hand in her hair. There’s a knee at each of her shoulders.

…wow, Karma has nice legs.

Her ogling is interrupted by a hand on her neck, stroking gently along the edge of her hairline. Then there’s a different hand entirely dragging tiny tingles of fabulous friction along the shell of her ear.

“So what were you saying about the potential candidates for Navori elders that might be vying to replace you?” she hears Caitlyn say, above her and to the right. Cait’s hand drifts from tangling in her hair and toys instead with the shadows along her collarbone.

“There are a few, but not as many as there would have been a decade ago,” Karma replies, above her and to the left. Karma continues to track her hand up and down Vi’s ear and jaw.

Vi presses her eyes shut, exhales hard through her nose, and licks her lips.

And stays perfectly still.

“Do the voters of your district still favour you over them?” inquires Caitlyn, polite and sounding genuinely invested in the answer even as she rubs torturous circles against the part of Vi’s bra cup that she knows is hiding a nipple.

Vi feels like a plate of cheese being picked over at a dinner party just to pass the time between contributions to the conversation.

It’s incredible how on edge she is, how intensely she feels their touches, how wonderful it feels to be the pleasant distraction for their hands while they talk.

It’s torturous, too.

With a cup of tea in one hand and a piece of Vi in the other, they talk for longer than Vi can begin to measure. She is absolutely certain if she’s caught looking at the clock something very unpleasant will be in store for her.

They work her bra loose without ever pausing the discussion, chatting about the evolving situation in Ionia and the upcoming restructuring of the police department in Piltover. They bring every inch of her skin to life, idly petting her on her face, her neck, her head, her shoulders, her chest, her arms.

Once Karma discovers her arms, she spends quite a bit of time navigating the maze of her tattoos, alternating between appreciative squeezes and delicate whispers up and down her bicep.

Vi forgets what it’s like to be able to talk.

It just builds and builds forever, the anticipation, the sensation, the need.

They’re both thorough and gentle in their confident manhandling of Vi’s upper body.

“…and you’d think they were paid in packing foam, for the way they complain,” Caitlyn is saying when her thumb and forefinger finally close on Vi’s right nipple.

Vi whimpers. She can’t help it. _Fuck_.

They must share a look or something, because almost instantly Karma is following suit, smoothly and swiftly capturing the left one and matching Caitlyn’s motion.

Vi gasps, trembles. They’ve been teasing her for so long that she’s sure she could come just from this.

Their conversation stills.

Oh no. Oh no, is she in trouble?

Caitlyn leans forward and sets her now empty cup of tea down on the table with a subtle clatter.

“Up on the couch,” she orders.

Vi swallows, trying to figure out where she left her tongue, and somehow manages to croak a quick “yes ma’am” before crawling up onto the furniture. Moving makes her very aware of just how wet she’s become.

“Face away from me,” Caitlyn commands, and Vi does as she’s told, turning towards Karma.

There’s that smile again, hovering below dark, deep, promising, threatening eyes.

Cait presses up against her bare back, mouth against her neck, one hand gliding along her hip and then down her leg, gripping firmly at her thigh. Vi is already panting like a terrified animal.

“I think she deserves a reward for her self control,” Karma chortles, taking her knuckles for a short jaunt along the pathway between Vi’s belly button and the top edge of her pants. Vi jerks slightly at the touch and Caitlyn responds lightning fast, seizing her arm, twisting it against her back like she’s a perp being detained. Vi shuts her eyes and clenches her face tight against the pain.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I’m sorry, I’m sorry ma’am - !”

She’d forgotten just how fucking much this hold _hurts_ , fuck!

Cait maintains her grip for another few seconds and then relaxes.

Vi’s heart is hammering, her adrenaline through the roof.

Caitlyn still has a firm hold on her arm, though, and it’s just a matter of one inch making the difference between pain and no pain. The sheriff’s other hand settles on Vi’s neck, pulling her in, forcing her to arch her back.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you’re good for us,” Caitlyn purrs. She meets eyes with Karma over Vi’s shoulder. Vi is reeling.

Karma chuckles, smirks, leans forward, and wraps her lips around Vi’s nipple. Vi is shaking slightly with the effort it takes not to keen and buck, trapped between two gorgeous dominant women and capable of few thoughts between “fuck this is hot” and “I have to be good”.

Satisfied with her taste of Vi, Karma pulls away and turns her attention to Vi’s belt.

She unbuckles it very easily. Vi expects maybe the next step is to unzip the front of her pants, but instead Karma pulls the belt free of its loops.

“This is very nice quality leather,” she remarks, and Vi’s brain plummets down, down, down along her spine, picking up speed at her stomach and screaming fear and delight, crashing through something in her groin that sets off an explosion of arousal and then exiting her body somewhere around her knees.

Oh fuck. _Oh fuck._

Karma folds the belt over in her hands, running it across her palms, feeling the edges.

“What do you think you’d like as a reward for all your self control today, pet?” Karma asks, and Vi closes her eyes for a moment to reassure herself that yes holy shit this is actually happening before answering.

“Whatever… whatever you want, Duchess. Whatever will please you.”

Behind her, Caitlyn’s lips press to the skin behind her ear in what seems like approval; Vi can feel her subtle smile.

“So very well trained,” Karma says. She reaches out for Vi’s face and Vi isn’t afraid. Oh, sure, Karma might hurt her, but she’s quickly decided she trusts this situation to be exactly what she wants and nothing more intense. Even if Karma hurts her, it’ll be in the way she likes.

Karma strokes her face. Leans in. Finds the ear not claimed by Caitlyn.

“You know what would please me?” she whispers. “It would please me to see what kind of nice stripes we can decorate your thighs with using your own belt.”

Vi’s labored breathing gives away exactly how she feels about that.

“Anything you want, Duchess,” Vi replies. She’s so helpless to this situation that she feels like she’s treading water in the sea of her submission, hardly holding her head far enough above water to be able to form sentences still.

Karma smiles.

“Over onto the ottoman, then, pet,” she says, gesturing to the footstool in front of one of the wingback armchairs. Caitlyn releases her arm, kisses her ear.

“You heard the woman,” Cait purrs.

On shaky legs, Vi gets off the couch and stands. She takes a step.

“Hands and knees,” Karma adds, voice becoming cold and sharp. Vi falls to the floor. “I’m going to add ten strikes for that mistake, pet.”

Vi clutches at the carpet and a fresh wave of need rushes through her.

“Yes ma’a - Duchess,” she whispers, head down. Afraid of how many more lashes with the belt she’ll get if she lingers too long, Vi crawls across the room to the footstool. Without her belt, her pants start to slither down her hips, and she knows her ass crack is showing above the hot pink panties she happened to have clean this morning. She doesn’t dare pause to fix it.

She reaches the ottoman and splays herself over it without waiting for further instructions, her knees on the floor, her torso across its top, her hands gripping the far edge, forehead pressing into the seam and hair dangling down into empty space.

The floor creaks under them as they both rise and follow Vi’s path across the room in what she can only assume is a much more dignified manner. She feels electrified, bent over the furniture and waiting helplessly for her beating to arrive on soft, graceful feet.

Palms grip her hips and lift them up. From behind her, Caitlyn presses her hands between Vi’s waist and the ottoman, popping open the button and wrenching down the zipper with a muted finality.

Fuck fuck fuck she’s getting her pants yanked off in front of Karma in the middle of their living room.

Karma is about to beat stripes into her with her own belt.

Caitlyn works the jeans down around her ankles but leaves the panties on.

“If there were any doubt at all that you were enjoying this,” says Karma, sounding very, very pleased with herself, “this is proof enough to make anybody believe.” As she says it, her hand glides down between Vi’s legs and draws a line up the damp centre of her panties. She makes her point and Vi can’t help but add punctuation of her own with the desperate sound it draws out of her. Her fists clench and unclench. The air of the living room seems cold against her exposed legs and ass.

The leather that touches the skin of her lower back isn’t cold, still fresh off her hips, but it makes her jump nonetheless.

“Sensitive, aren’t you pet?” Karma chuckles, stroking the leg nearest her hand. “Spread.”

Vi wiggles a foot loose from her pants and pushes her heels apart, grounding herself as best she can in preparation. Her whole body is tensed.

Caitlyn notices, of course. Caitlyn notices everything.

“Relax your muscles, sweetheart,” she commands. How the hell did she end up standing at Vi’s head? It doesn’t matter now, not with her perfect hands in Vi’s hair and her perfect voice in Vi’s ears. Vi exhales and allows the tension to leave her limbs. “Good girl,” Cait praises.

 _CRACK_.

The first strike lands and Vi’s mind goes instantly blank, thoughts overwritten by pain and her determination to surrender to it. She gasps, lurches forward, and then is stopped by the sharp grip in her hair, and she wants to sob for how incredible it is to be so utterly trapped and outnumbered.

 _CRACK_.

Karma’s strikes land true, and land _hard_.

It won’t take quite as many of them as Vi might’ve thought to leave those marks Karma was talking about.

_CRACK._

A noise of pain creaks out past Vi’s lips, and unexpectedly Cait’s vicious grip becomes a gentle, loving touch as she cards her fingers through her hair. “Such a good girl,” Caitlyn whispers, setting her other hand on Vi’s shoulder, holding her still with just a feather’s weight worth of pressure. “Take it for me, dear.”

_CRACK._

“Good girl, good girl,” Cait murmurs, holding her, stroking her. Her legs are burning, stinging, trembling. This is unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. Fuck. She’s so fucking wet.

 _CRACK_.

Vi jerks again, pressing her face down hard into fabric, shoulders bunched. Cait’s hand continues to roam through her hair, combing through the long side, rubbing fondly across the short. That’s five, right? They’re up to five? This isn’t so bad.

 _CRACK._ And then, without any pause, the other thigh. _CRACK._

 _CRACK._ “Hafuck,” Vi groans into the cusion. _CRACK. CRACK._

Karma’s pace picks up and now instead of a strike every five seconds Vi’s thighs are on fire with pain that rotates from left to right, refreshing the sharp sting one after the other with a steady relentlessness.

She loses count.

At some point Caitlyn decides her barely constrained flailing means she’s got too much freedom of movement. After one particularly vicious lash, Vi yanks her arms back, as if to try to defend her screaming, burning legs. She stops herself before her elbows are even past her ribs, but it’s still breaking a rule.

Caitlyn wraps her hands around Vi’s wrists and drags them back up to the far edge. Karma doesn’t so much as slow down and the blows seem that much more brutal with Caitlyn putting her body weight into holding Vi’s arms well out of the way.

_CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK._

The pain is incredible.

_CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK._

Vi isn’t really too aware of the fact that she’s moaning with every other hit until Karma pauses and says, to Caitlyn, “She does make some absolutely lovely noises, doesn’t she?”

Vi writhes her face against the ottoman but keeps the rest of her body still. Fuck. _Fuck._

“She does. I’ve yet to fix that rather dirty mouth of hers, though,” Caitlyn replies, keeping Vi’s nerves on edge with her touch on Vi’s shoulder. Fuck. Did she say that out loud? Fuck. “How are those legs looking?”

Karma runs an unexpected hand up Vi’s outer thigh and it’s almost as much torture as the belt. She feels like waves of heat must be radiating off her lower half. She’s floating somewhere in that comfortable void in her brain where the burdens of having to think are totally not her responsibility.

“She marks nicely,” Karma purrs.

“They never stay as l long as I’d like them to,” chuckles Caitlyn in reply.

Vi’s breathing is far from anywhere close to returning to normal. She didn’t expect to get off on being talked about like this, but she sure as hell is.

“Stay, girl,” Caitlyn murmurs, running her fingers one last time through Vi’s hair before moving to see Vi’s legs for herself. Vi closes her eyes and basks in the way her body is buzzing.

“Oh, yes, very nice,” the sheriff remarks, drawing her finger across a horizontal line that Vi can’t see but can definitely feel. She whimpers in the back of her throat.

“What a good girl she is,” Karma says, caressing the curve of Vi’s ass. “Do you know how many strikes that was, pet?”

Vi has to swallow before she can bring herself to answer.

“I don’t know, Duchess,” she mumbles, unable to pull her forehead up from where it’s pressed into the edge of the ottoman. Karma’s hand is having a grand time enjoying her right ass cheek at her leisure while Caitlyn’s hand is doing the same along her left thigh, and it’s all she can do to string four words together.

“You took fifty for me, pet,” Karma says, sounding incredibly pleased.

The revelation makes Vi exhale a hard huff of breath, involuntary prickles running down her back.

Her very, very exposed feeling back.

Cait’s tender touches turn suddenly cruel, dragging nails along the already throbbing lines on Vi’s leg. Vi bites her lip and grips tight at the thick seam of fabric that is the first thing available to her hands and she can’t stop the animalistic whine that accompanies the tensing of every muscle in her body.

“Don’t be rude, love.” Caitlyn deadpans. “Thank our guest for her thorough attention.”

“Thank you,” Vi splutters, wheezing the words through teeth gritted in agony, “Thank you Duchess,”

Sensation trails up her spine even as Cait’s nails continue to bite her thighs. It’s the belt.

“Thank you for _what_ , girl?” Her sheriff pushes, ice cold.

Vi’s breath is coming in panicky bursts now. It hurts _it hurts_ she needs it to stop, she’ll say anything to make it stop.

“Thank you for hitting me, Duchess,” she says, cringing, trying desperately hard not to flinch away from them and get herself in even more trouble, “Thank you for - “ what were the words Cait used? “ - for your attention.”

Somehow that’s good enough, because Caitlyn releases her just as she’s on the verge of twisting away. Karma pulls the belt away from her bare back and runs fingers through her hair.

“You’re welcome, pet,” she says.

Vi exhales a shuddery breath. After a few heartbeats, she manages to tentatively relax again.

“So what was that you were telling me about bringing a bag of goodies?” Caitlyn asks Karma, sounding all too casual, and fear of the implications of _that_ question ricochet through Vi with a sudden intensity that put her immediately back on edge. Karma transitions from her slow, gentle petting of Vi’s hair to an almost ominous exploration of the artwork along Vi’s arms.

“It’s the silk bag I left next to your sofa,” she says. Vi tenses. She didn’t even notice the bag. These sneaky sadistic bastards. “Do I frighten you, pet?” Karma asks when her shoulders grow taut, laughter in her rich voice.

Vi swallows. It’s unfair how fucking observant they both are.

“I - I trust you, Duchess,” she mumbles.

Karma’s grip is in her hair lightning fast, yanking back, stripping away the illusion of safety she’d gotten from hiding her face against the footstool.

“That’s not what I asked, pet.”

“Yes,” Vi answers quietly, urgently, terrified and aroused. “Yes, Duchess, I’m - afraid.”

“Good,” Karma purrs, letting Vi go.

Someone - she’s not sure who - rubs a brief, affectionate palm over her hip.

She shuts her eyes and tries to quell the excited fire that has spread from her groin to what feels like every nerve ending in her body.

“Sit up, love,” Caitlyn orders. “Kneel up here.” She pats the surface Vi’s torso is currently stretched over.

“Yes ma’am,” she whispers, filling the two words with the sudden rush of love she feels for this incredible woman. Vi does as she’s told, scrambling to get into position, surprised to realize Karma has wandered away to get the bag. Caitlyn catches her eye, smiles, and holds her by the chin to place a brief kiss on her cheek.

“Good girl,” Caitlyn whispers back, and Vi hears _I love you too_.

The sheriff runs the pad of her thumb down Vi’s jaw, then stands back to admire her, pushing her chin up, adjusting her shoulders, sneaking in a brush of fingertips over each of her nipples as she circles her, dealing with imperfections in her posture.

Caitlyn steps away and looks at her - just _looks_ \- pondering over her nearly-naked form like a complicated flower arrangement. Karma arrives shortly at her side and regards Vi in much the same way. Vi tries to focus on staying perfectly in position, but she can’t help but hone in on the fancy looking purple bag that she can see in her peripherals.

“You know, I think she’s missing something,” Caitlyn says, unmistakably up to something evil.

“Mmm, I agree. What do you think she needs?”

They circle her, shark-like.

Vi’s hold on her forearms tightens and she sits a little straighter.

Karma stops when she’s standing behind her, presses her front to Vi’s back, and runs her hands up Vi’s body from her thighs up to her collarbone, cupping her jaw with two hands, brushing fingertips against her lips. “What could we possibly add to you, darling creature?” Karma muses, gliding her hands back down Vi’s neck and then settling them firmly on her breasts.

Vi has no response beyond a slight catch in her breath.

“I think I have just the thing,” Karma purrs, taking a nipple in each hand, rolling them delicately between thumb and forefinger, “for these.”

“Hn,” Vi pines.

“That would be something new, wouldn’t it dear?” Caitlyn asks, pressing against Vi’s front without obstructing Karma’s hands, settling her own on Vi’s hips and claiming a kiss. Vi responds to it with helpless, desperate desire.

“Yes ma’am,” she breathes against Caitlyn’s lips.

Karma’s fingers are as talented as they are confident, and Vi finds she’s both relieved and disappointed when they stop working their magic. The woman is headed for her bag. Vi watches over Caitlyn’s shoulder, fixated and terrified.

It takes a bit of rummaging, but eventually Karma draws a short, thin silver chain from its mysterious silky depths. At either end of the chain is a small silver something. Vi doesn’t need to see them up close to know what they are.

Nipple clamps.

Behind her back, Vi nervously paws at her own forearms.

“Sit up straight,” Caitlyn commands.

What she means is _stick your tits out_. Not that she’d ever be so crude.

Vi does as she’s told.

Karma comes at her with these new and somewhat scary implements, but they stay in her hands, at her sides. She leans in and lays a kiss on Vi’s breast, looking up at her with a wicked little smile.

“What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t ensure your sweet girl was well stimulated first?” She says, mouth hot on Vi’s skin. Vi looks down at her, looks up at Caitlyn, looks down at her, looks up at Caitlyn.

And then Karma’s lips and tongue are on her nipple, and Vi has to bite her lip to keep herself quiet. Fuck, Karma isn’t holding anything back - it feels fucking fantastic, whorls of warm pleasure radiating through her just from that one point of contact. Vi tilts her head back and squeezes her eyes shut and enjoys it while she can, trying not to think about what Karma’s got in her hands just a few short feet away.

And then, suddenly, holy fuck there is another mouth on her other side and her eyes snap open and shit she is _so wet_ , that’s Karma and Caitlyn sucking on a tit each and Vi can’t help it anymore, she’s going to fucking make noise and they can just deal with it.

She can’t believe this is really happening.

Fuck!

The mounting sensation quickly seems like it’s going to overwhelm her. The sight of them and the feel of them might even be enough to push her totally over the edge. If only one of them would just touch her clit already she’d be coming in an instant and a half.

Without meaning to, she squirms her hips a little, wishing she had something to grind against.

Vi is gasping, groaning, whining, cussing, she doesn’t care - and neither of them seem to be stopping their blissfully nice feeling assault.

The ‘nice’ ends when eventually Cait decides she’s had enough of Vi’s trucker mouth and bites down after a particularly vivid swear.

“Ah!” Vi yelps, jerking, and Karma pulls away, smirking. Caitlyn follows suit, and an eager sort of dread instantly replaces all the heat and hunger between Vi’s legs. Her chest heaves with the remnants of her ragged breathing.

Karma sets a hand on Vi’s right breast, cupping it with an almost professional sort of firm deliberateness. She uses her fingers to squeeze down on Vi’s nipple, slowly adding more and more pressure, and then her other hand comes up. Vi is torn between watching and looking away, but Karma replaces her fingers with the fancy looking little clamp so swiftly that she doesn’t have time to make a decision before she’s arching her back with the sensation of the metal clip biting down.

As she expected, it’s painful, but after the initial sharp jolt it settles down into a persistent but tolerable throbbing. The throb of pain seems to be perfectly in time with the throb of need still cruelly being ignored in its pink panty prison.

Karma places a kiss against her collarbone.

“How’s that feeling, pet?”

Vi swallows.

“It hurts, but not too bad, Duchess,” she says, relaxing a little. She’s sure it would feel a lot more unpleasant if she weren’t hornier than a Yordle in a mop factory.

“Good girl,” Karma murmurs, kissing her again and stroking a hand down her inner thigh before moving over to her left side. Vi shudders.

Karma repeats the process with just as much clinical caution. When the second one secures its sharp hold, Vi whimpers and arches her back again. Their guest says something that sounds like it’s probably praise that Vi is too distracted to hear. Shit it _hurts_.

Her eyes jump to Caitlyn, moving closer in again. She doesn’t have a sheepish smile for her sheriff anymore - instead she turns a look on the woman that is fearful but eager anticipation.

“It hurts?” She asks evenly, ghosting her knuckles up Vi’s stomach.

“Yes ma’am,”

“How much?”

“I… uh… f - four, maybe, ma’am.” Four out of ten on the pain scale sounds about right.

“What about now?” Cait whispers, and then both clamps pull down slowly and firmly. Vi trembles, allows her eyes to slide down and settle on where her partner’s thumb has hooked over the middle of the chain strung between the clips.

“Five,” she says, quickly, and Cait pulls harder, and she clenches her face tight and splutters, “Six!”

The downwards pressure releases but the throbbing doesn’t stop - every beat of her pulse brings a new spike of pain.

“On the floor,” Caitlyn says, and Vi moves slowly, trying not to jostle the wicked equipment dangling from her front. Caitlyn pushes the footstool out of the way of the chair. “I think it’s time you demonstrated to our guest that your mouth is good for things other than profanity,” she says. Vi wants to press her face into the carpet but she hasn’t been told she’s allowed to so instead she  kneels as she was before, making sure all of her is on display to her lover’s satisfaction.

She’ll be happy for the distraction from the constant pain - and damn if she isn’t excited for the idea of showing off and making the person responsible for these clamps moan a little herself.

“Do you think I wore this dress purely for the aesthetics?” Karma laughs darkly in response to the offer. Vi chokes on a grin. God, confidence is so hot.

She settles into the chair more like a queen than the duchess she is. She locks her eyes on Vi.

“Come,” she orders. Thrill washes through Vi. She crawls over and positions herself between the woman’s incredible thighs, crouched in the floor in front of her and waiting for further orders.

“I want your hips up and your legs spread for me, dear,” Caitlyn says from behind her.

 _Fuck_ , and there’s another round of agonizing shivers through her body. There’s no escaping them - by the time she’s focused on one, the other has a new command ready to throw her off again.

“Yes ma’am,” Vi answers, lifting her ass up, spreading her knees.

“Let’s get these off, shall we?”

Finally, fucking _finally_ , Caitlyn’s hands are pulling down her absolutely soaked underwear. She shifts her weight onto her toes so that Caitlyn can pull them down past her knees, then gets back on her knees to let her pull them down past her ankles and then, at last, completely off.

“Look how much she’s enjoying this,” Caitlyn chuckles, and Vi doesn’t turn her head but she sees Karma smirk at the sight behind held up behind her.

Karma reaches out and strokes Vi’s face, and when her fingers trace Vi’s lips, Vi doesn’t hesitate to open her mouth.

As Karma ventures the tip of a teasing finger against Vi’s tongue, Caitlyn drags her hands up Vi’s thighs. Her nipples are still sending low, steady pulses of pain through her system, but somehow it’s translating directly into pleasure.

Vi exhales hard through her nose as Caitlyn teases her, drawing endless lines up and down her inner thighs, getting close, so close, without actually touching her where she wants to be touched most desperately.

Karma eases a pair of fingers into Vi’s mouth, drawing her brain forward again, and Vi is quick to wrap her lips and tongue around them and offer Karma a preview of what she’s capable of. The woman hums happily, encouraging Vi and distracting her slightly from the myriad sensations attacking the rest of her body between Caitlyn and the nipple clamps.

Karma withdraws her hand and hikes up her dress. Vi can’t look away. Fuck, it’s been so long. Not that she’s been unhappy having Caitlyn to herself all these years, but she can’t deny the excitement of experiencing someone new.

She’s thrumming with pleasure and pain and urgent willingness.

The dress rolls up and reveals elaborate ocean-green lingerie that doesn’t stay on Karma’s hips for more than a moment.

She spreads her legs and smirks and says, “Make yourself useful, pet.”

Vi is all too happy to do so.

The moment she presses her mouth to Karma, Caitlyn’s fingers find her clit, and she jerks with the sudden stimulation.

But Karma’s got both hands in her hair, and she isn’t going anywhere.

Vi throws herself into being good and showing off this particular skill of hers. Even as Caitlyn works to fill her with trembling ecstasy and the clamps continue their unchanging throb of pain, she struggles to focus on pleasing them both, moaning her appreciation for the one in between drawing hungry, dedicated circles against the other.

Karma seems to like it, too, and Vi is quickly finding that the mental thrill of accommodating one and being tortured by the other is almost more overwhelming than the physical sensations. She rocks her hips in time with the thrusts of her face, her limbs shuddering every time Caitlyn strokes her in just the right way.

“You’re not allowed to come without permission,” Caitlyn reminds her with a hungry growl.

“And don’t you dare stop before I tell you to,” adds Karma, sounding breathy but still very much capable of punishing her for misbehaving.

Fuuuuuck.

Vi renews her efforts tenfold, working her mouth until her jaw aches. Karma is soon trembling and gasping, but it’ll take more consistency than just a single burst of fervor before she’s anywhere near the edge.

As if it isn’t difficult enough for Vi to fight off the swell of pleasure claiming her ability to concentrate, Caitlyn brings her other hand into play and starts to tease at her entrance. Vi utters a startled, desperate sound that translates into a sensation against Karma that makes her buck her hips in reply.

Even though her hands aren’t tied to anything, Vi doesn’t dare use her fingers without explicit instructions to do so. She could have Karma coming so much faster if she were allowed to, but she was told to use her mouth, so she’ll use her mouth.

She’s just gotten into a good, solid rhythm that has the woman silently shivering when she feels Caitlyn push several fingers inside of her. Vi gasps and for just an instant her lips aren’t on Karma anymore. She’s quick to correct it, even as Caitlyn ruthlessly pushes her closer and closer to an orgasm she’s not allowed to have, and whimpers and shudders even as she drives her tongue in hard circles around Karma’s clit.

“I saw that, love,” Caitlyn comments. Fear rages through her, but she can’t stop, isn’t allowed to stop, she has to get Karma off so that she can take her face away so that she can ask permission so that she can come - _fuck!!!_

Fucking fuck she’s so close, between the nipples and the hands fisting in her hair and the penetration and Caitlyn’s wonderful, horrible hands. She’s not allowed to come. _She’s not allowed to come_.

Vi tries to drive it out of her mind and focus on Karma, who is shaking still, holding on to Vi’s head for dear life, sure to emerge from this encounter with pink hairs stuck to her sweaty palms. She’s just gotta be good, gotta do what she’s told, gotta make Karma happy.

Karma’s breathing hard now, murmuring “Good girl, good girl,” and jerking her hips on every upstroke.

Yes, yes, fuck, she’s a good girl. She’s almost there.

Her legs are shaking just as badly as Karma’s are, but she just needs to push her over the threshold and then she’ll be allowed to beg for permission to join her.

The endless laps have left her tongue more tired than she can ever remember it being, but she’s determined. Karma starts to clench up. Her mantra speeds up and grows quieter and becomes _yesgoodgirlyesgoodgirlyes_ and there, there it is, Vi’s got it, somehow through the fog of her own pleasure and pain she’s managed it, and Karma is doubling over and squeezing Vi between her thighs with her feet on Vi’s back. Vi is worried her heels are going to puncture her back when finally she grows limp and gasps, “Good girl, good girl, stop, stop now.”

Vi pulls away and instantly blurts, “PleasemayIcome, _please_ ma’am,”

Caitlyn doesn’t immediately grant permission, maintaining a steady thrusting in time with the beautifully overwhelming friction up front.

“What do you think, Karma? Has she earned it?”

Vi whines throatily, resting her head on the edge of the chair, fighting to keep her grip, to not give in to the feeling before she’s supposed to.

“I think…” Karma answers, speaking slowly, sounding dazed and delighted, “I think she has, poor dear.”

“Come,” Caitlyn says, and that’s all it takes before Vi is hurtling into oblivious ecstasy.

When she’s thinking real thoughts again, she finds she’s curled up on the couch with her head in Caitlyn’s lap and her legs tossed over Karma’s knees. She smiles dopily up at Caitlyn, who leans down and kisses her left eyebrow.

“How’d’a get up here?” Vi mumbles, not really caring, still smiling. Her thoughts don’t get much more complex than _I’m sticky_ and _Cait’s hands are so nice_ after a scene like that one.

“You don’t remember?” Caitlyn asks, amused. Vi shakes her head, turning to hide her face in Cait’s dress with a sleepy grin. “You crawled up here a couple minutes ago when you were told to and then closed your eyes for a while.”

“Mmm,” Vi says.

“Sweetheart,” Cait says.

“Mmm?” Vi says.

“We’re going to have to take these off.” Her thumb brushes Vi’s breast, below one of the still attached clamps. “It’s going to hurt more coming off than going on.”

“Mmm.” Vi answers, frowning. “Kay.” She rolls back over onto her back and shuts her eyes. She doesn’t want to see it coming.

Caitlyn’s right - it hurts a hell of a lot when the blood flows back into them, especially without the distraction of something sexy happening. Vi whimpers and cringes, too broken down by the mindboggling orgasm to put on any sort of tough act, and Caitlyn covers her forehead in a flurry of kisses and tells her how good she’s been.

Eventually the pain fades and then there’s nothing but Caitlyn and Karma and the warmth settled happily in her thoughts.

They’ve been cozied up like this in comfortable silence for a while when Caitlyn gently pushes a strand of hair out of Vi’s face.

“Did you have fun, love?” She asks.

“Yes ma’am,” is Vi’s sincere - if worn out - reply.


End file.
